


good morning starlight

by toomoon (jjjat3am)



Category: ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Compliant, M/M, One Shot Collection, Wevember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/toomoon
Summary: A collection of one shots for Wevember, an Onewe prompt list challenge.Ch. 1: A Perfect Day - Hyungu/YonghoonCh. 2: Shampoo - Hyungu/GiwookCh. 3: Sweaty hands - Harin/Dongmyeong
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Ju Harin/Son Dongmyeong, Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun/Lee Giwook | Cya
Comments: 32
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing challenge based on the Wevember prompt list, which you can find [here](https://twitter.com/keonfeet/status/1322177189203333120). Join us! 
> 
> I'll be attempting to fill out all of the prompts up until the rest of the year, though I might end up combining some prompts together, and I'll be posting them all in this work, each chapter a different work. Rating is subject to change and pairings will be added as I write them.

  
  


Yonghoon rips out his in-ears to hear the fans better, basking in the sounds of their raised voices singing along to Dongmyeong’s part. To his left, Hyungu perches on an amp to deliver his last solo and Yonghoon allows himself to watch his silhouette bathed in the starlight of the stage lights, skin glowing an unearthly purple, and it’s everything he can do to tear his eyes away to launch into the last chorus, words tumbling from his mouth, easy like breathing. 

There’s sweat clinging his shirt to his torso and joy bubbling like champagne through his bloodstream as he drops his mic stand and waves. He grins at the half-visible faces of their fans in the crowd, the echo of the stage lights illuminating their smiles, the traces of tears on their faces, as he waves them goodbye, stumbling off the stage on feet suddenly unsteady.

He finds Giwook’s shoulders in his way, throws an arm around them and squeezes, feels more than hears his elated giggles as they hold each other up. After a moment, Harin’s sweaty body comes colliding into them and Yonghoon catches a mouthful of his sweaty hair, and then Dongmyeong’s smaller body is nestled under his chin, his perfume somehow still immaculate through the sweat. Underneath the noise he hears a soft laugh, heard only because he’s attuned to it, and then Hyungu is joining them in the group hug, Yonghoon’s hand scrambling for purchase on his faux-leather jacket until he can pull him closer, as close to him as he can. 

Their fans are still chanting and singing, and the sound echoes in his bones as he holds on tighter to the four most important people in his life, feeling drunk on happiness, on joy.

They separate because they have to, because their staff is calling their names, holding water bottles and towels with soft indulgent smiles on their faces as the five of them stumble around like puppies, like people born anew, baptized in sound.

Yonghoon goes through post-concert rituals in a daze, his body fizzling with leftover adrenaline, and Dongmyeong laughs at him the third time he drops his granola bar but then offers him his own.

They cram into the van after and it’s four AM, streetlights like beacons of light in the pre-dawn darkness, and Yonghoon smiles absently at the window. In the seat in front of him, Giwook and Dongmyeong are leaning on each other, heads slumped together, eyelids drooping. 

On his right, Harin is leaning on his shoulder, asleep almost as soon as he'd sat down, energy sapped by his high-powered drumming. The adrenaline from the performance is draining from Yonghoon's limbs, leaving behind aching exhaustion that nonetheless does nothing to dampen the happiness settling in his body, a low hum of satisfaction.

He catches the rustle of movement from his left, finds Hyungu awake, startled momentarily by the double vision - Hyungu, sharp and sweat-damp next to him, and Hyungu in the window, edges blurred and city lights like constellations dotted across his skin. 

He meets eyes with the Hyungu in the glass, and after a moment, his mouth twitches up in a soft blurred smile that makes Yonghoon feel warm. Yonghoon’s hand is resting on the car seat between them, and Hyungu’s hand comes up to cover it, their fingers twining, guitar calluses catching on each other. Yonghoon feels himself flush and Hyungu’s smile turns knowing, but Yonghoon is too exhausted to decipher the mystery behind it. Lulled by Harin’s heavy warmth against his side and the gentle grip around his fingers, his eyes start to fall closed. He makes a valiant effort to keep them open but it’s a losing battle, especially as Hyungu’s thumb strokes the back of his hand gently.

“Sleep, hyung,” it’s barely a whisper, but Yonghoon decides he’ll obey, just this once. Before succumbing to pleasant dreams, he could have sworn that he feels a gentle pressure against his forehead, brief and soft, like the touch of butterfly wings, like the kiss of starlight.

Yonghoon falls asleep, lulled by the soft sound of the radio playing in the background and the familiar sounds of the people he loves the most in the world breathing peacefully in their sleep. 


	2. Shampoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giwook asks Hyungu for some help dying his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this one entirely on the train, wooo. The setting for this is kind of undefined and up to your interpretation. Originally it was supposed to be that Giwook is a producer and Hyungu works as a session musician, but you could also read it as a future fic if you wanted to.

Hyungu’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he reaches to pull it out, inadvertently elbowing a nearby salaryman. It earns him a glare and he tries to corral his face into an approximately apologetic expression, neven if the other man can’t really see it from underneath his mask. He’d bow, but it’s rush hour and there are people packed into the train car like sardines. The salaryman shuffles off on the next stop and Hyungu finally feels safe enough to thumb open the message on his phone.

‘I want to dye my hair again,’ says the text from Giwook, and Hyungu smiles under his mask, does his best to reply with just one hand, the other gripping the pole in front of him for balance.

‘Do you already have the dye or should I pick it up on the way?’

Giwook replies with a photo and Hyungu has to squint down at it because as usual Giwook lives in darkness, all blinds drawn. He can just make out his silhouette backlit by the lamplight, body swallowed in an oversized hoodie with the hood drawn, and he’s holding up a box of hair dye. His hair isn’t visible, but it’s been brown for at least a month, and he’d known that Giwook was going to get antsy about changing it soon. Apparently soon was today.

‘Will you help?’ Giwook texts and Hyungu rolls his eyes.

‘I definitely don’t trust you to do it by yourself,’ he texts, right before launching himself at the door, fighting through the press of bodies to exit at his station. He tucks his phone away as he takes the stairs, tucking Giwook and his hair to the back of his mind. He’s got a session with a producer that’s known to be strict and he intends to bring his A-game and also get out of the studio and back home as soon as possible.

  
  


*

  
  


Giwook doesn't even twitch when Hyungu comes in, but in his defense, he's wearing a huge pair of headphones and seems intent on the computer screen. Hyungu lets him be in favor of unpacking the groceries he'd picked up on his way home. The sink is still empty like he left it after doing the dishes in the morning, so if Giwook cooked anything (unlikely), he’d washed the pots and pans (also unlikely). Or he hadn’t eaten all day (very likely).

He's in the middle of boiling some water when Giwook appears behind him, winding his arms around his torso.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in," he says into Hyungu's shoulder blades.

"It's okay," Hyungu says, smiling instinctively. "You looked busy. Do you want ramyeon?"

"Sure," Giwook mutters, rubbing his cheek on Hyungu's hoodie and it's really lucky that Hyungu's turned away because he's probably got an embarrassing smile on his face. 

"Did you eat at all today?" Hyungu asks, turning off the heat to throw the noodles in. 

"Probably," Giwook says, separating from Hyungu in favor of snagging a hard-boiled egg, hoisting himself up on the counter to peel it. "Was working on a track."

"Anything good?"

Giwook hums around a mouthful of egg. "I'll show you later," he says, which means it probably is. "Long day today?"

"Not too bad," Hyungu says, stirring in the sauce. "I was done pretty quickly. Don't eat all the eggs."

Giwook grins at him around a mouthful of his second egg.

An hour later they're in their bathroom, every surface covered by towels. Giwook is sitting on the edge of the tub, back to Hyungu and the rest of the room. He's only wearing a thin undershirt and a towel around his neck, and the absence of his oversized hoodie makes him look smaller. Hyungu catches himself thinking fragile, but it's probably just the bleach fumes going to his head. 

He helps Giwook wash the bleach out after, directs his head gently under the spray, careful that he doesn't get any in his eyes. And then he wraps his whole head in a towel and rubs so vigorously that all Giwook can offer are muffled protests.

Hyungu dries his hair nicely afterward, even though he doesn't have to since they'll get it wet again soon. There's something about running the comb through Giwook's hair and drying it that's calming, always has been. The strands are a uniform blonde, meaning Hyungu's done a good job.

There's a moment, Giwook's hair dry and a sharp bleached blonde, his face gone soft and sleepy, that fills him with such unspeakable fondness, it hurts a little in his chest.

"You look like me now," he tells Giwook, who immediately looks horrified.

"Hurry it up with the dye, I can't be seen like this," he says despite the fact that he's been blonde too many times to count, and Hyungu pinches his hip in retaliation, and then has to grab his wrist to stop him careening head-first into the bathtub when he loses his balance.

"Where did you put the dye anyway? I don't even know what color it is, your photos are always so dark," Hyungu says.

"It adds to my aura of mystery," Giwook says, and he looks almost offended when Hyungu starts laughing.

They find the dye wedged halfway under the couch cushion where Giwook dropped it and then got distracted by a song idea. Hyungu squints at the label and promptly feels another dumb smile spread across his face.

"It's purple!" he exclaims, delighted. "That's my favorite color."

"I know," Giwook mutters, avoiding his eyes, and Hyungu's chest is suddenly so full it hurts. He busies himself with reading the instructions even though he knows what they say, just to keep himself from doing something dumb like vomit flowers or reach for Giwook's hand.

There's something almost charged between them as Hyungu applies the hair dye, spreading it through Giwook's hair with practiced strokes. The dye washes out pale purple, and Hyungu catches himself staring at the way it swirls as it disappears down the drain. 

It's late, probably way past midnight. 

He takes his time drying Giwook's hair afterward, until it's smooth, falling in perfect waves. Hyungu turns off the hairdryer but keeps his fingers running through the strands, caught up in the way it looks, pale violet wrapping around his fingertips. Without his conscious decision, his hand moves to Giwook's face, smoothing over his brow, tracing his nose, and then his cheekbone.

And unlike before, Giwook's eyes aren't closed, but open and trained on Hyungu's face.

"What are you doing?" Giwook asks softly.

"You look cute," Hyungu says, even though it's not an explanation. He starts to pull his hand away but Giwook catches it, presses it back to his cheek. Framed by his pale purple hair, his eyes glitter in the lamplight, miniature galaxies.


	3. Sweaty hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmyeong interrupts Harin's drumming practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Palimpsest_F who asked for Dongmyeong/Harin! I hope you like it!

Dongmyeong leans against the doorway, watching as Harin practices. He doesn’t mind waiting if the view is like this - Harin stripped down to an old tank top, muscles in his arms straining with his movements, sweat running in thin rivets down his neck, down his collarbone, and disappearing into the neckline of his shirt. 

It’s not long at all before Harin slows down, dropping his sticks in favor of a bottle of water, taking out his in-ears with a careless movement, and Dongmyeong feels it’s safe enough to take out his own earplugs and approach.

The smile that spreads across Harin’s face when he catches sight of him is gratifying. 

“Hey, when did you come in?” he asks. And then his smile promptly drops into confusion when Dongmyeong doesn’t stop at an appropriate social distance, walks right into his space, and promptly sits on his lap.

Harin’s hands instinctively come up to steady him and Dongmyeong allows himself a satisfied smile. Harin is sweaty all over and on any other person it’d be gross, but because it’s Harin, Dongmyeong doesn’t mind the sweat transferring through his thin T-shirt. He is radiating heat like a furnace, and his palms feel like firebrands on his back. 

“Hyung,” Dongmyeong says, tilting his head in a way he knows brings attention to the pretty line of his neck, feels validated when Harin’s eyes flicker downward. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Harin says, warily, looking up to search his face, “so what do you want?”

“Who says I want anything?” Dongmyeong says playfully, even though he definitely wants something. “I could just be happy to see you.”

Harin adjusts his grip to Dongmyeong’s hips, moving him so he’s sitting more securely on his lap and Dongmyeong forcibly hides an excited shiver at the manhandling. He’s here for a reason and it wouldn’t be good if he got distracted.

“No, you definitely want something,” Harin says decisively, “you’re never like this unless you want something.”

“How could you say that!” Dongmyeong exclaims and then lets his seductive expression drop. “Anyway, I’m hungry and I forgot my wallet.”

Harin sighs but there’s a fond smile on his face that betrays that he’s not at all offended. He puts his arm around Dongmyeong’s waist when he bends down to grab for his wallet.

Dongmyeong grabs it out of his hands, promptly tucking it in his back pocket before he leans forward to kiss the indignant expression off Harin’s lips. He intends it to be just a peck, but they get a little carried away and in the end, he’s a little weak-kneed as he climbs off Harin’s lap and retreats to a safe distance, away from any...temptations.

“Thanks for the meal, hyung,” Dongmyeong says, waving the wallet at Harin, who just rolls his eyes. “You should practice some more, it’s sounding a little rough.”

“No, it’s not!” Harin says, looking horrified.

“It really isn’t,” Dongmyeong says, laughing, “but sweaty is such a good look on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/leewoong) // [CC](curiouscat.me/hwansloth)


End file.
